


Sick Irony

by wodniw_a



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Guilt, Murder, Shitty summary but basically Yellowfang kills Brokenstar before the end of Yellowfang's Secret, Spoilers, Spoilers for Yellowfang's Secret
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wodniw_a/pseuds/wodniw_a
Summary: What if Yellowfang killed Brokenstar earlier?





	Sick Irony

The gathering was over. As Yellowfang stood up to follow her clanmates out of the clearing, Spottedleaf cut in front of her.

"Yellowfang, what on earth is Brokenstar doing!?" The calico hissed, eyes wide with anger, "He's making kits into apprentices way too early!"

Yellowfang stared at the she-cat, her veins stinging with sadness. She worked her claws into the ground, "You think I don't know that?" She snapped, "I've _tried_ reasoning with him, but he... he just _won't stop_."

"Why is he doing this?" Barkface asked, glancing worriedly at the large tabby tom currently leading Shadowclan back to camp.

"Brokenstar is _mad_. You have to stop him," Mudfur growled at her, his ears flattening.

Yellowfang looked at her paws. Her heart ached with every death. With every cry of a mother who had lost their child too early, with every kit sent off to fight battles they weren't ready for. Badgerpaw, Dawnpaw, Wetpaw and Brownpaw were all very eager to train and although their brother, Volepaw, had lost his life while battling a pack of rats, they were excited. They trained hard and long with their mentors and it made Yellowfang sick whenever one of the kits bounded into her den with a fresh wound that would soon fade to become another scar among their tiny bodies.

"I don't know how. He's too strong, he's got too many lives," Yellowfang glanced towards the stars. Why would Starclan condone this? Why weren't they doing anything?

The other medicine cats exchanged glances and Barkface leaned towards her, whispering into her ear, "Meet with us here tomorrow night if you can. We will discuss plans."

The brown tom nodded at her, then trotted away to catch up with his clan. Spottedleaf followed after him. Mudfur turned around to give her a warm smile, "Do not worry. Everything will turn out alright in the end." He meowed, turning around and racing away.

When Yellowfang reached camp, she swerved away to pay a visit to the elders.

As she neared the hollow the old cats were huddled in, Poolcloud's ears pricked and she raised her head, "Hello Yellowfang. How was the gathering?"

The ragged grey she-cat sat down in between Hollyflower and Archeye. "It went as usual. The medicine cats were shocked to see such tiny kits sitting with the apprentices."

"Starclan knows I would be, too," Crowtail meowed, voice muffled from the mouse he was chewing on.

Hollyflower nudged a half-eaten thrush towards her, "Here, eat this. You must be tired, taking care of the whole clan."

Yellowfang shook her head, "No thanks, you need it more than I do. Spottedleaf said to meet her and the others tomorrow night at the fourtrees. I don't know if I should go."

"What's the meeting for?" Archeye asked, stretching his paws out and lashing his tail.

"I believe it's to plan some way to stop him."

The group fell quiet.

"You shouldn't go," The youngest cat, Nightpelt, spoke up. "It's dangerous and if Brokenstar finds out you've been sneaking out, who _knows_ what he'll do."

"No! You must go, Brokenstar needs to be stopped!" Featherstorm snarled, stomping over to stand in front of Yellowfang. "Please," her voice and face softened into desperation.

Poolcloud nodded in agreement, her grey fur bristling as she glanced around and scented the air, "I agree," she decided.

"Stay safe if you do go!" Crowtail added as Yellowfang stood up.

She nodded and hurried back to camp. Runningnose, who was curled up in his nest, watching the entrance like a hawk, opened his mouth, about to ask where she was. But she flicked her tail over his mouth and muttered, "Elders," as she laid down on the moss.

  
The night came quicker than she wanted, her day taken up by whining kits begging her to patch up their cuts and scrapes and warriors with tufts of fur ripped out, wounds bleeding as they chatted about the battle they won. Her stomach howled and her paws ached and she wanted nothing more to just have one day where everything was quiet and no one entered her den complaining about bleeding out.

When dusk fell and Runningnose snored loudly, sleeping, Yellowfang hauled herself tiredly from her nest and slipped out of the den. She stepped quietly over to the exit and after making sure the coast was clear, left the clan.

Yellowfang limped towards the gathering place, stumbling with exhaustion. The four great trees loomed over her and she caught sight of the three cats, feeling less elated than she expected. The she-cat sighed and slipped through a bush, padding over beside Mudfur.

The brown tom dipped his head, greeting her with a mumble.

Yellowfang settled down, tucking her paws underneath her as she laid against the cold earth.

"Yellowfang. It is nice to see you have arrived," Spottedleaf meowed warmly as her whiskers twitched.

"Yes, we thought you wouldn't agree," Barkface spoke up.

She scoffed in reply, her ragged tail curling against her body, "I almost didn't."

Spottedleaf trotted over to her, pressing against her in a comforting gesture, "What happened?"

"Exhaustion. Over work," the grey she-cat mumbled, flexing her paws, "Brokenstar is working everyone to the bone, he's starting needless fights and wasting my herbs."

Somewhere in the distance, a cicada chirped, a gentle buzzing sound rang through the clearing. "We must stop him as soon as possible. Do any of you have any ideas?" Mudfur glanced at everyone, his claws peeking through his fur.

"The only way is to kill him," Yellowfang rasped, the scars littering her skin suddenly felt tight and itchy. The thought of killing her own son made her stomach twist. She was supposed to heal others and help bring lives into the world, not destroy them.

If she killed Brokenstar, would she be just like him? Or better, for stopping his destructive actions?

For the rest of the night, ideas were thrown around until a plan was born. The cats present agreed to the plan and they wished each other luck before parting to head to their respective clans.

She headed back to ShadowClan. Yellowfang's heart was beating wildly and her paws felt unbearably numb. This plan was horrible. Medicine cats weren't supposed to murder. But then again, neither were leaders.

She knew Brokenstar killed his father. Her mate. As she squeezed in between two bracken plants, her muscles grew taught and every step was forced and slow. Yellowfang loved Raggedstar. He was strong and smart and very handsome, but to think she and him could create such a monster...

Her claws peeked out, the tips scratching the ground, catching on grass and thorns. Her pads ached and she halted.

"Brokenstar is a monster. He's ruining the clan. I _have_ to. I'm his mother, I was the one to bring him into the world," She hissed to herself, staring down at the dirt that caked her fur, "I am the only one fit to kill him..."

Straightening her gait and taking in a deep breath, Yellowfang silently reassured herself and slipped as quiet as possible into the camp. Her pelt smelled, so she ducked behind her den and rolled in a patch of grass and brambles, hoping to get the gross scent off.

Her dark grey fur stuck to the branches, so she collected each wisp she could find and buried them in a small hole, not wanting to seem suspicious. Any activity the deranged leader found to be traitorous would probably end in banishment or punishment. Yellowfang didn't want to test his temper.

After patting the dirt flat, Yellowfang snuck into her den, creeping carefully to her nest. She curled into the soft moss, her body feeling too old, too worn. Closing her eyes, Yellowdang sank into a fitful rest, her dreams filled with screams and blood and death, one cat standing atop a pile of cold, dead bodies. The cat's soulless amber eyes shone down at her, glowing with a hint of red.

 _You can't kill me_ , he snarled.

  
Morning glow filtered through the thorny patches atop the tight cavern, awaking the shaggy grey she-cat. She heaved herself up, glancing over to her apprentice, who was sleeping peacefully, his tail wrapped around himself, the tip tickling his wet nose. She felt the motherly urge to lap the unruly fur on the top of his head down and leave him to sleep, but she shoved the parental feelings down. Runningnose would be no good medicine cat if he slept all day.

Yellowfang nudged his cheek with her paw. When he didn't stir, she raised her limb and smacked it down on top of his muzzle.

The grey and white tom shot awake and yelped, his paws clutching at the bridge of his nose, ears flat against his head.

" _Yellowfang_! What was that for!?" Runningnose whined, placing his feet back on the ground and sitting up.

"Medicine cats cannot sleep in. Let's go eat, then we must get to work," she ordered sternly, turning around and walking into the clearing.

Runningnose bounded after her, his patchy fur ruffled and unkempt. Yellowfang's whiskers twitched in amusement and she flicked her tail over his ears.

"Your fur is a mess. You should groom it after eating."

The younger cat's eyes lit with a flash of humour as his eyes travelled along her own messy pelt. She could feel the thorns and burrs sticking to her sides. "You should look at your own. Did you roll in a bush or something?" He purred as they arrived at the fresh-kill pile.

Which, ironically, wasn't as fresh as the name implies.

Yellowfang stuck her nose into the barren pile of prey. She snagged something and dragged it out, frowning at the maggots writhing inside of the thin mouse she found.

"We really need hunting patrols... We're barely able to feed ourselves," Runningnose sighed as he shoved a small, rotten crow back.

"Our storage needs more herbs, we can hunt while we look," she suggested.

Runningnose nodded, following her as they exited the camp. "It's unguarded again... Brokenstar's sending too many battle patrols, no one has time to hunt and the queens keep complaining that they don't have enough milk for their kits," he mumbled, tail flicking.

"Brokenstar's the leader. You best not defy him," The older cat meowed, inwardly sighing at her words.

"I know, but I kinda wish Raggedstar hadn't chosen him. He's working everyone to death," Runningnose's claws unsheathed, creating small indents in the ground as he walked.

"I'm sure we'll find done way to rid him of his power," Yellowfang muttered cryptically, her golden orange eyes blazing with an emotion Runningnose found was unfamiliar for her.

The day went on normally, but Yellowfang couldn't fight away the itchy, tight feeling in her fur. She felt apprehensive and wrong as dusk neared. As the sun dipped down in the horizon, the elderly cat stood, shook her dusty pelt out and excused herself from the medicine cat's cave, telling her apprentice that she was going to speak with the leader about something private.

She clambered over to Brokenstar, who was sitting proudly on top of his den, eyes scanning along his warriors. His deep orange eyes travelled to the approaching cat, his crooked tail waving curiously. "Yellowfang. What do you want?" He asked.

Yellowfang dipped her head, "I would like to speak with you privately, outside of camp."

"What is it you'd like to talk about?" The tabby narrowed his eyes at her as he leapt down from his perch, landing beside her. She moved away before he could step on her paws.

"I will explain once we are alone. It is urgent," Yellowfang provided almost no answer, inwardly cursing Barkface for coming up with this faulty plan.

But, the leader hesitantly nodded and they trekked outside, the grey she-cat leading him to the designated point. She turned to face him, regarding her son with sad eyes. "I'm sorry," Yellowfang whispered as her claws slid out. In one quick moment, she jumped forwards and sliced at Brokenstar's left eye.

The tom yowled, stumbling back. When Yellowfang shot towards him again, he snarled and sidestepped, twisting his body until he was facing her sides. He struck her, sharp talons digging into her skin, fangs biting down on her scruff as he pinned her against the ground. His eyelids bled, the tangy liquid trickling down his face, dripping onto the old she-cats thick, messy fur.

"What are you doing!? You think you can kill me?" He hissed in her ear, voice dark and laced with hate.

Yellowfang fell limp, panting softly. She was too old too fight, her limbs too frail. But as the tabby loosened his grip, a smirk on his face, she bucked her hips up, using her front legs to pull herself up and shove Brokenstar off. With a howl, Yellowfang slashed his other eye.

The tom growled, stumbling uselessly around, fur stained crimson with blood, "You damn medicine cat! What do you think you're doing?!" He wrenched his eyes open, the iris twitching, glazed over and unfocused yet his gaze burned a hole into her.

"We're going to kill you," Tallstar hissed he he, along with Bluestar and Crookedstar, stepped out of the shadows.

"You can't kill me! I have nine lives!" Brokenstar exclaimed, eyes wild and fur raised.

Crookedstar's tail lashed as he stepped forwards, teeth bared. Yellowfang turned away, closing her eyes tightly as the howling began, insane screaming tearing from Brokenstar. She could hear flesh ripping and blood splattering.

The pitiful sounds fell quiet.

Yellowfang opened her eyes, glancing over. Her chest clenched at the sight, feeling the sudden urge to vomit. Brokenstar lay there, scarlet liquid pouring from a large gash running from his chest to his stomach. His eyes, clawed and marred, were wide open and removed of any light. They were glassy and lifeless and the horrid look on his face haunted her. She couldn't help but feel sick and guilt rested heavily against her shoulders as she looked at her kit.

"He shouldn't come back after having his stomach torn open like that. You should bring him back to camp and let everyone know he's dead," Bluestar meowed, dipping her head apologetically towards her.

"We are very sorry that you had to witness this, but it's for the best," Tallstar, too, dipped his head. The white patches along his fur were stained with spatters of blood. Even though his voice was gentle, the blood painted quite the horrific picture of the thin leader.

Yellowfang, with trembling limbs and an unsteady balance, straightened herself and shook her head, "My clan should not have to see anymore death. I'll bury him here and tell them the news."

Bluestar padded over to her, "Very well, we shall help."

And so, the three leaders plus the Shadowclan medicine cat quickly dug up a grave and placed the evil tom's body inside, burying him away. As the last few flecks of dirt were kicked onto the pile, Yellowfang felt that her worries were buried along with her son.

The four cats bid farewell, and with eased shoulders, returned to their own camps.

The old she-cat trudged to her clan, exhaustion draping over her. The moon had finally poker its head over the land, peeking through the pine trees that made up Shadowclan. Yellowfang's back ached and she could feel rivulets of blood travel along the slope of her shoulders.

She ducked through the thorny barrier wall that protected the camp and leapt up onto the leader's den, beckoning the cats to gather around.

Meows of confusion erupted but the medicine cat quickly hushed them, "I have news for you all; Brokenstar is dead."

The meows changed into shocked yelps and uproars, some cats were worried, some confused, some relieved but the emotion that Yellowfang noticed the most in the crowd, was anger.

"How did he die!?" Someone wailed out.

Steeling herself, Yellowfang inhaled deeply, her next exhale doing nothing to soothe her nerves. "I killed him."

Silence spread along the cats as they gaped up at her.

"He was slowly killing the clan. Brokenstar was a monster who let tiny kits, barely three moons old, fight in battles meant for seasoned warriors. I had to kill him," she told everyone.

Yellowfang continued when no one spoke up, "Since I have murdered him... I decided to leave. Runningnose, you are smart and wise and I trust you to choose a cat worthy of rebuilding our clan. I am grateful to have been your medicine cat for so long, but I am guilty of my actions and feel as if I do not belong here anymore."

Ending her speech, Yellowfang hopped down and regarded everyone, "I'll send the elders back. Do not miss me, I do not belong in Shadowclan anymore."

She could feel her clanmate's gazes boring into her back, her ears angling backwards as Nutwhisker and Rowanberry yowled out their goodbyes, voices thick with sadness. Yellowfang disappeared through the entrance, her paws numbly taking her to where the elders, along with Nightpelt, were nested.

She told them the news, watching as they dragged their moss beds back to camp, then she limped away from her home, her territory.

She had rid the world of the monstrous cat, her very own son. No clan needed a murderer. There's no way a killer like her would stay in Shadowclan. Her paws, formerly used to heal wounds and save lives, were tainted with blood. She may have saved Cloudpelt from the claws of death, but she still allowed Brokenstar to die.

She may have gotten rid of a murderer, but she, herself, become one in his place.


End file.
